


Forever Is Our Promise (And You Break It Like Glass)

by diosraphael (forfitzsimmons)



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: I am the reason we can't have nice things, M/M, Mates, Sorry Not Sorry, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, and bam all the pain and suffering and ship that you'll ever need, and then be happy because I'm gonna fix it, basically rewriting some parts with a different context, blood maybe, idk - Freeform, like literally - Freeform, read and weep, vampire mating thing, wherein I make everything worse before I fix it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 03:59:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6499930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forfitzsimmons/pseuds/diosraphael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not the story of how they got together.</p>
<p>This is the story of how they fell apart.</p>
<p>And he wouldn't say there was hope, but maybe there was still something unbreakable between them (assuming it wasn't already broken to begin with).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mates

This was one goddamned mess. Honestly, Raphael had never felt _worse_ , and that’s saying something because he slaughtered all of his friends when he was first turned. He never took time to grieve them, already convinced he was damned, and yet he hadn’t felt more damned than today.

He was not the wallowing type. The Great Raphael Santiago did not _mope_ , or feel sorry for himself. He didn’t have time for that nonsense and yet here he was, curled up in _Simon’s room_ of all places, _wallowing_. At the moment, it was too much to try and move. His whole being was consumed with one big shit pile of regret, disappointment, sadness, anxiety, and _longing_ and Raphael couldn’t tell what was his and what was Simon’s (it should’ve been both of theirs, it _should’ve_ been different).

This whole mate business was just a mess. Raphael didn’t get the appeal—ok, scratch that. He _did_ get the appeal, because for a while it was _fantastic_ and _beautiful_ and made him feel _whole_. Still, as much as he had grown to dislike mundanes and their ways, he longed for their kind of courting instead. It was so much less complicated, less messy, _and less real_ , his brain supplied. His anger flared and he felt Simon reach out, even now, to try and soothe him, but Raphael pushed and shoved that away and the regret and anxiety came stronger. _Simon’s then_.

He thought back to the start of this mess, to their naiveté, to the _one_ _time_ Raphael Santiago was not in control. He swore to himself now that it’d be the last time.

For some reason, he wasn’t surprised about the way the fledgling looked at him, like he was equal parts terrified and fascinated. Perhaps it was that lack of surprise that made it easier to look back, equal parts confused and amused. He wouldn’t lie, the fledgling was attractive and Raphael had noticed that before the boy had even been turned. Being undead looked even better on him.

Still, Raphael was above the carnalities of that sort, and he wouldn’t be tempted by some talkative fledgling (even if his nervous stutters were kind of adorable and when he’d _really_ smile he could probably solve the energy crisis). At least, he thought he wouldn’t be, until he’d been _nice_.

That seemed to be when every mess started, when Raphael let down his guard and tried to be good or empathetic. In this case, it started with a nightmare.

It wasn’t uncommon for fledglings to have nightmares, and the first couple of times, Raphael let Simon comfort himself. There was just one particular morning where Simon seemed to be having a particularly bad dream, his cries for help echoing through the hotel and no doubt waking most if not all of its inhabitants.

When Raphael got out of bed, a few of the others were crowded around Simon’s room and flinching whenever he yelled. Raphael glared.

“I’ll handle this. Go back to your rooms.”

The crowd dispersed and Raphael entered, spotting the boy tangled in a mess of blankets (a lot of blankets, probably enough to suffocate him) on his bed, crying out incoherently. Raphael flashed back to his little brothers and how he would soothe their nightmares.

Sitting on the very edge of the bed, Raphael gently shushed him, running a hand over Simon’s hair.

“Shhh, it’s alright, Simon. Simon, can you hear me? It’s okay, you’re safe.”

“No! Mom, Becca, Clary!” They were first coherent cries Raphael had heard, and he realized it wasn’t the kind of nightmare that could be soothed, it had already gone too far.

Raphael gave a sharp tug on Simon’s shoulder and the boy jerked awake, hyperventilating despite not needing to breathe anymore. The fledgling reflexively gripped the sleeve of Raphael’s pajamas. He looked around like a caged animal, fearful and anxious. His eyes landed on Raphael.

“It’s alright, Simon. It was only a dream.”

“I-I killed them. I killed them and I _liked it_.” His own words brought on such distress that he began to hyperventilate more, if that were even possible. “Oh g-,” he choked on the word, “I’m a monster. I’m—”

Raphael shushed him again, more firmly. “Simon, it’s _okay_. You won’t hurt your loved ones. I _swear_. You are not a monster, you are a boy with bad luck.” There was silence for a moment.

“How can you swear that I won’t hurt them?” The words were so quiet and small, a reflection of the boy’s fragile state. Raphael could tell the monster business still wasn’t over, but this was more pressing.

“I will teach you control. There is no better person to show you how to resist.” Raphael stood, mind made up, “In fact, we can start right now.” He held out his hand, letting the boy choose if he wished to trust him.

After a few moments of Simon looking from Raphael’s face to his outstretched hand, he cautiously untangled himself and slipped his hand into Raphael’s. Raphael’s skin tingled where their skin met and he nearly pulled back in surprise. He should’ve known something was up then, at that moment when he chose to stay and pulled the fledgling towards the lounge by his hand, determined _not_ to think about how much he liked the feel of calloused fingertips.

Their dynamic changed after that night. Simon was a slow-learner with the physical aspects of vampirism, but he excelled at remembering histories and laws. When he asked questions (some ridiculous and some less so), Raphael would answer and the fledgling would just absorb all of it.

Simon stuck to him like glue and Raphael let the boy observe because now he could see his potential. The kid was smart, much more so than he’d previously given him credit for. Raphael even gave him things to study, books written by vampires and passed down through the ages. In return, Simon suggested some books and movies of his own, which Raphael was reluctant to admit were actually fairly good in most cases.

It was on a night when it was Raphael’s turn to be ‘educated’, that things got _weird_. Raphael didn’t even remember what movie it was, but at some tense moment, Simon’s hand landed on top of Raphael’s. The tingling he’d felt before came back and he unconsciously twisted his hand to intertwine with the other’s. The fledgling glanced over at him and Raphael looked back. He scooted closer, nearly knocking his laptop askew, gaze moving from Raphael’s lips to his eyes and back. Raphael just stared, waiting. It would be the fledgling’s choice, as it always was.

Leaning forward, the fledgling tentatively pressed his lips against Raphael’s. The nervous kiss lit some sort of fire and Raphael’s other hand came up to grip Simon’s hair, the movie now forgotten completely. He kissed back, gently nipping at Simon’s bottom lip, taking pride in eliciting Simon’s little gasps, groaning when Simon pulled back to press a kiss to the sensitive skin under his jaw. Raphael didn’t remember anything being so consuming, so _raw_. They didn’t talk about what this meant for them. Instead, they fell asleep there, Simon’s arms wrapped around Raphael. The intimacy of it was not lost on them.

Them.

After that night, Raphael began to refer to him and Simon as one. _They_ studied in the penthouse, _they_ went hunting with some of the others, _they_ stayed up to make out and fall sleep in each other’s arms (again). Yet, _they_ never talked about _them_ , about this thing they had become. It just was, or at least it would’ve been. _Should’ve been_ (or maybe it was _shouldn’t’ve_ ).

If he didn’t know better, he’d blame Simon for all this. He was the one who started it, but how could Raphael blame him? The boy had only so much control, while Raphael had enough for an army, so much that he hadn’t even noticed his own problem until Simon had unwittingly shown his.

They had been making out (and still, _Dios_ _still,_ haven’t talked because words kind of always ended up jumbled and flying out the window) and Simon, naïve, uncontrolled Simon, was baring his fangs. He was nuzzling into Raphael’s neck, fear, confusion and longing in his voice.

“R-Raph?” Simon stuttered. Raphael had told him to stop calling him that (but it was Simon, so all his threats were half-hearted and he wasn’t surprised the boy kept saying it). It was then that Raphael opened his eyes and realized what Simon’s problem was. They’d already eaten, but Simon was baring his fangs and staring at Raphael’s neck, unconsciously getting closer and for a dizzying moment, Raphael considered letting him until Raphael came to his senses and ripped him away.

“Simon!” That made the fledgling snap out of it, fangs retracting. He never thought he’d have to have this talk with him (though he should’ve known, especially since he was the one Simon had been making out with). “Simon, only—you don’t—,” Raphael ran a hand through his wildly messed up hair. The poor boy looked scared, even paler than normal, like he’d committed a crime he never knew existed. “Only _mates_ bite each other. It’s part of the ritual.”

“Mates? Ritual?” The confusion remained, but the fear seemed to dwindle.

Raphael rolled his eyes, “Yes. For vampires, while many are quite _frivolous_ , if they do pick a partner, it’s generally for life, eternity.”

“Eternity,” Simon repeated again, biting his lip. “What does that have to do with, um,” he looked away, “Biting?”

“The ritual involves two vampires to feeding from each other. It’s an intimate gesture, Simon. It’s not the same as biting a mundane.”

“O-oh?” He seemed to want to know more, which frightened Raphael (not that he’d ever admit that).

“That’s actually all I know about mates,” Raphael confessed. “I never really had a reason to find out more than that.”

“You mean, you’ve never had a mate?” Simon looked surprised, but Raphael just glared.

“If I _ever_ had a mate I wouldn’t be sneaking off with you and letting you borrow my clothes, dumbass.” Despite Raphael’s insult, his words somehow made Simon light up, which he supposed was worth the awkward conversation.

“Heh heh, right,” the boy rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit Raphael couldn’t help finding adorable (damn he was in deep, at this rate he’d end up drowning). “So, the biting thing is like the vampire version of proposing?”

“Yes,” Raphael rolled his eyes (again), “Except less expensive and more instinctual.”

He’d gone to Lily straight after, the only other person who knew about him and Simon. He wouldn’t dare tell anyone else.

“The kid nearly fed from you? _Raphael_ ,” she scolded him.

“I _know_ , but that isn’t the worst part, Lily.” He was pacing. _Raphael Santiago_ was pacing. The silence stretched on as Lily followed his frantic movements.

“ _No_ , you don’t mean?”

He growled, mostly at himself, “I nearly _let him_ , Lily! I must be out of my mind.” He looked over to her to see a smirk on the older vampire’s face. “Why are you _smiling_? This is terrible!”

Her smile just grew in intensity and teasing, “Nope, this is _instinct_.”

If Raphael could get any paler, he would have. In fact, if he wasn’t dead he probably would’ve dropped right there at the insinuation that he wanted to be mated with _Simon Lewis_ , great kisser and constant pain in the neck (though still really adorable).

He came to a halt, eyes wide. _Shit, this is me drowning._ He turned his terrified look to Lily once more, who was just grinning even more.

“Looks like the _Great Raphael Santiago_ has finally met his match.”

“God dammit, Lily, you’re _not_ helping.” He licked his lips nervously, trying _not_ to hyperventilate like a mundane. His friend just turned and plucked a volume from her bookshelf, shoving it into his arms. “What the hell?” He skimmed through it, realizing it was a book about mates. The deer in headlights look intensified. “ _Lily_ ,” he pleaded, not sure exactly what it was he wanted her to do—perhaps stop teasing him or maybe just go ahead and _stake_ him.

“You see, _Great_ _Leader_ , I imagine there are _a lot_ of things you don’t know about mates—“

“Lily if you even _try_ to give me a talk, _I will_ _end you_.” He was becomingly increasingly mortified, with both the situation and himself.

He still read the book (only in his room, never around Simon). It was informative (and mortifying, he skipped all the parts about having sex with your mate because that was _not_ for him, thank you). Besides, even if he had been _informed_ , that didn’t make what happened okay, not even a little.

Simon had come back from the walk Raphael had snapped at him to take (he’d been trying to distance himself and Simon was too much sometimes) smelling like _werewolf_ and his shirt was littered with bullet holes and it sent Raphael into an undisguised _fury_.

“ _WHAT HAPPENED?_ ” The clan leader dug his claws into his hand to keep himself calm, but it wasn’t working at all, considering he was yelling. The other vampires in the hotel had probably fled to their rooms as soon as Simon had come in looking like Swiss cheese.

“It was nothing! I just helped Luke out with a problem!” His hands were up in surrender. Raphael grabbed one wrist and began dragging him to Raphael’s room, shoving him inside and slamming the door. “What’s it even matter to you, huh? You’ve done almost nothing but yell at me ever since I almost bit you.” The fledgling was asking for it and Raphael swore under his breath, an action that only made Simon continue. “I’m _sorry_ if I offended you or the idea of mates is that horrifying, but that doesn’t give you the right to be a complete asshole, _mmpf_ —“

Raphael cut him off with a growl and a searing kiss because the dumb fledgling just wasn’t getting it and Simon was somehow cute even when he was wrong and angry. He was rough, rougher than he should’ve been when he shoved Simon against a wall, pulling his hair and biting his lips, _taking_ every groan Simon let out. He ripped the already-ruined shirt off the idiot ( _his idiot_ , his brain possessively supplied), running his hands over him, checking for wounds. He pulled back, Simon dazedly following until he was pushed away, gentler this time.

“Don’t you _ever_ do something this stupid again. I don’t care if it’s for God himself, _you will not do this to me_.” His weakness betrayed him and he let his head fall into the soft curve of Simon’s neck. “You’ll be the death of me, I swear.”

After a moment of silence and Simon resting his head on Raphael’s shoulder, “Good thing you’re already dead then, huh?”

_Why do I like this dweeb?_ He couldn’t help chuckling into Simon’s neck and for some reason it was at this moment that the feeling hit him like a _goddamn_ _freight train_. He wanted Simon Lewis, _forever_. His whole being demanded it without his permission. His fangs came out of their own accord and he could feel Simon’s cheeks bulge out against his skin.

He scraped his fangs against Simon’s pulse point, he could _feel_ Simon’s breath hitch and the shiver that ran down the fledgling’s spine. Simon returned the gesture and Raphael absolutely _lost it_ , carelessly sinking his fangs into ( _his, all his_ ) Simon’s neck, gripping tightly to his waist when he felt the skin of his neck break and his head jumble into a mess of _Simon, mine, yours, us, now, together_.

When they came down, Raphael belatedly realized they still hadn’t talked ( _shit, Simon thought Raphael hated him_ ). He led ( _his_ ) Simon to the bed and laid them down, snuggling into ( _his_ ) Simon’s chest, blood still dripping from their necks. He wanted to talk, to figure this out, to make sure ( _his_ ) Simon didn’t want to take everything back, but when he moved his head to look at ( _his_ ) Simon, the boy was already fast asleep, and Raphael wasn’t far behind.

He woke up in a dizzying panic, jerking awake and looking into the terrified eyes of the one and only Simon Lewis. He flashed back to last night and what they’d done.

_Oh_. He remembered this from the book, the shared emotions. Raphael tried to exude calmness to soothe the boy in front of him. He watched the terrified look dissolve into, well, _slightly less_ terrified. Raphael sighed and rolled over onto his back beside Simon to stare at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry,” and he took Simon’s hand, because he apparently liked to punish himself. A feeling of sadness filled him. “It was wrong of me to force that on you.” Sadness faded to surprise and then disbelief only to settle into wary relief. “I should’ve let you choose. If—if you don’t want this, there is a way to break it. I wouldn’t blame you for it.” Anxiety came, and something more soothing, more loving. With a jolt, he realized the anxiety was from _himself_ and Simon was trying to _comfort_ him.

Raphael turned over, tucking himself into Simon’s side, _vulnerable_. What had this fledgling done to him? Simon turned on his side too, face close and giving Raphael an _Eskimo kiss_ of all things and he couldn’t help the affection for this adorable nerd seep into their bond, making Simon light up like a Christmas tree. The grin on Simon’s face and the pure happiness radiating off him was nearly too much.

“Make any cheesy comments and I don’t care if we _are_ mates, Lewis, _I will end you_.”

 


	2. Trouble in Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being mates isn't all it's made out to be, especially when your mate is still in love with someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of depressing thoughts and an implied sex scene that you'll miss if you blink. Yay for sex-positive aces :D  
> I was going to make this the super angsty chapter, but I think it's gonna be the next one instead. This is just slightly angsty, but also pretty fluffy still.

The next night, he finally got out of his room. It wasn’t easy, especially after waking up to an empty bed, trying to find a hand to hold or something to wrap his arms around. Still, he was _Raphael Santiago_ , leader of the New York vampire clan (until Camille came to kill him), and he wouldn’t sit around and mope.

Yet, everyone seemed surprised when he walked into the lounge, looking as put together as usual. Lily rushed over to him, pulling him to the side.

“Are you sure you should be out of bed, Raphael?” Lily was obviously worried, but Raphael was just _insulted_.

Just because he could feel every bit of Simon’s distress and regret didn’t mean he couldn’t function. He was better than that. He would not _pine_ over a traitor who had chosen a shadowhunter over his own _mate_. A shot of jealous rage ran through him and like clockwork, Simon tried to reach out, tried to reassure him, but Raphael rejected it outright. He didn’t _need_ Simon’s reassurance. All that had ever gotten him was a broken heart and an angry vampire after his life.

Honestly, he should’ve seen it coming. He had _known_ from the beginning that the redhead was going to be a problem one way or another. Clary had his respect for fighting for what she wanted, but she never seemed to consider anyone else in the process, even her _best friend_. He remembered Simon confessing how he’d felt forgotten and so alone when he was going through the hallucinations. He remembered assuring Simon he’d never be far (but maybe he should’ve asked for the same from him).

They had been a good team before Clary came barging back in, wielding her best friend privileges like she never considered having lost them. Simon managed to brighten the mood of the whole hotel and Raphael made sure everyone was still getting things done. It was a dull day when Simon would go and visit with the _werewolves_ (who he still wasn’t fond of, especially since he didn’t find any of Simon’s excuses for coming home with bullet holes in his clothes at all feasible). Alliance or no alliance, Clary and the werewolves were nuisances to his time with Simon.

Raphael was ashamed to admit that everyone could tell when Simon was out with the werewolves (he _was_ the ambassador to them, but still, _still_ ). Everyone could hear him coming, stomping around in a terrible mood and grumbling until Simon finally had enough of his grumpiness and came home to smooth out the rough edges of his mood (some days he’d be grumpy on purpose, just so Simon would come home and cuddle with him). He could tell the others preferred his rule when Simon was around, he kept Raphael from being a tyrant, from snapping at people when they tried to be smart with him about his age or using _favoritism_ (OK, maybe making a fledgling ambassador to the werewolves was iffy, but Simon was the only one who liked them anyway and Luke was apparently like a father to him so he was probably still the most qualified for the job).

Sometimes, on days Simon actually had to discuss terms with the werewolves and couldn’t return early, Raphael would feel a sudden wave of affection and he’d just smile like the lovesick idiot he’d become (because he was in way too deep, there was no going back on those days he knew Simon was thinking about him). Lily would never stop teasing him, he was sure of it (but honestly, he didn’t care because he had Simon and what more could he ask for?).

Raphael smelled her with Simon before he heard them. He had known something was up earlier when Simon became suddenly distressed. He came in right as Simon mentioned having human blood being against the Accords. He moved behind Simon, silently.

“I’m surprised you know that much,” he was smirking, not _really_ surprised. Simon had read nearly every book in the hotel. The tenseness in his body didn’t leave and it was putting Raphael on edge. They never seemed to have a good day when Clary got involved.

“Why do you keep doing that to me?” His expression and emotions nearly screamed _not now_. Any other day, Simon might roll his eyes, probably would’ve even felt him get closer.

“If you worked on controlling your enhanced senses, as you should, you wouldn’t be surprised.” Raphael turned to the redhead, “Clary, you really need to stop barging in here.” Especially during the day, when he should be cuddling with Simon instead.

The girl wanted human blood, but Raphael had no reason to break the Accords and give it to her. He’d already done plenty just by agreeing to the alliance.

“ _Qué lástima_. No can do.” He sat down in a nearby armchair, only to be hauled back up by Simon’s hand on his arm. His mate had the gall to _blackmail_ him, that and the combined distress and determination coming off him were all it took for Raphael to cave (damn, this boy had made him weak). He _was_ a little impressed. Simon might be slow to the physical aspects of being a vampire, but he was quickly catching onto everything else. That deserved a promotion (that in no way had anything to do with wanting Simon around him always and away from those damned werewolves).

Simon looked at Clary and assured her he’d be okay. Raphael didn’t like that, the idea that his mate wouldn’t be okay with him. It was nearly offensive.

“Was that really necessary?” Simon turned to him as soon as Clary was no longer in sight.

“Was _what_ necessary, baby? The promotion? You should be glad I’m not punishing you for blackmailing me, your _clan_ _leader_ —a fact you seem to have forgotten.”

“Trust me, I remember.” A spark of annoyance accompanied his dry tone.

“If there’s something you’d like to _say_ , I suggest you get it out in the open.”

“Well, could you stop forcing me to come home early? I _know_ you do that on purpose. You’ll get grumpy and everyone hates when you get grumpy and of course _I_ can feel it all the way at Jade Wolf and you won’t let me do anything about it until I’m actually home. Also, Clary is my best friend, so I’d appreciate you not hating her, thanks.”

His first point was fair, he knew it wasn’t the best way to deal with Simon’s absence, but the second made him hiss. “I don’t hate _her_ , Simon. What I hate is the way you look at her, like she’s the sun or something.” Weren’t the moon and stars good enough? “She’s going to get you hurt, Simon. You have a clan and a _mate_ now. You shouldn’t get hung up on a shadowhunter girl that forgets you exist until she needs your help. Besides, I don’t like sharing.”

“Clary is my best friend.” He insisted, but even her name produced emotion in him.

Raphael frowned, feeling somehow _smaller_ , “You forget I can feel your emotions, Simon.”

Simon looked away, ashamed. Raphael sighed and pressed a kiss to Simon’s cheek, giving up on this particular fight for now. It’d only lead to heartache anyway.

“I’ll try not to be so grumpy when you’re away. Now come to bed, _cariño_. It’s still early and I missed you.”

A small smile graced Simon’s face, “You just want an excuse to cuddle.”

Raphael hummed thoughtfully, pulling Simon to their room, “Blasphemy.”

Simon laughed and everything seemed okay again (for now, it was always _for_ _now_ ). They’d curl up in bed and Raphael would pretend not to notice that Simon seemed to be uneasy, staring at the blackout curtains. He knew Simon was still coming to terms with his new life, it was something each of them had to go through. Raphael only hoped Simon would come to him when he was ready to talk.

Becoming mates had not really fixed anything in their lives, just made it more complicated, it seemed. Raphael knew Simon still struggled with being a _monster_ , that he still had feelings for Clary, that he was torn between being happy at the DuMort and feeling like his life was falling apart. Being mates only made it more obvious to Raphael.

Not that Raphael didn’t have his own problems. He was still selfish and didn’t always express his feelings appropriately (hence using their bond to make Simon pay attention to him), he still had a hotel of vampires to take care of, trust issues, politics to deal with, a fledgling to train and adjust, and of course there was still Camille. She was chained in a coffin on the basement floor of the hotel and Raphael still had no idea what to do with her. He was not ‘officially’ the clan leader until Camille was dead or stepped down (neither of which were likely to happen quietly).

Raphael woke to find Simon still awake, staring at the curtains again. He sighed, deciding enough was enough.

“Simon, talk to me.” He reached a hand up to gently tilt Simon’s face away from the curtains and towards Raphael instead. “Staring at the curtains won’t make what’s behind them hurt any less.”

A sharp pang of sadness and despair rushed through Raphael. He sat up on the bed and pulled Simon into his arms, running a hand through his mate’s messy hair.

Simon chewed on his bottom lip and opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to form words. Finally, “Why did you take me to Clary?”

That wasn’t the response he’d been expecting, but he supposed it was just as relevant. “I knew she cared for you and would know what you’d rather her do.”

“ _I_ don’t even know what I’d rather. Even now, I—I wonder if it wouldn’t have been better for her to stake me instead, but I don’t think she would’ve been able to do it.”

“I think you’re too stubborn to die that way—quietly, without a fight. Even as a mundane, you tried to talk your way out of everything—badly, I might add, but still.”

Simon made some indignant sound, “ _Excuse_ _me_ for rambling when I’m terrified for my life.”

“Hmm, you’re excused, but you still owe me a new jacket, _mi luz_.”

Simon huffed out a short laugh before falling silent again. Something odd and suffocating seemed to choke the air around them. Simon rolled over, resting his head on Raphael’s chest, looking into his eyes.

“Hey, Raph?”

“Hmm?” Raphael absently caressed Simon’s cheek.

“Do you—do you regret me?” He seemed so small in that moment, so vulnerable. The weight of his question was overwhelming him (and by extension, it nearly overwhelmed Raphael as well).

Raphael was silent for a moment, trying to phrase what he was going to say. “I regret what has been done to you, but not you being here, not _us_. Simon, just because your mundane life is over, it doesn’t mean _everything_ is over. You can find other ways to live, everyone does eventually.”

The look Simon was giving him was nearly too much. It was accompanied by a surge of affection and something else, something less sweet, but deeper somehow, something Raphael couldn’t quite identify.

“I think I already have,” Simon says before lifting himself up to kiss Raphael.

It started off slow, but Simon deepened the kiss and Raphael tugged at his hair. Simon gripped Raphael’s shirt and then pulled at the end of it, silently asking for it to come off and then Raphael realized where this was going, pushing Simon away, and _shit_ , they were going to end right here and he was sure of it.

“Raph?” He seemed to have felt the panic, a look of concern crossed his features.

“I—Simon, I can’t—I’ve never—,” He was floundering, badly, but how was he supposed to tell him he had _zero_ idea about anything like this and it was honestly _terrifying_? He was supposed to be the experienced one, the one who knew how things worked, but this was another thing entirely.

Realization seemed to dawn on his mate. Eyes wide and questioning, “Are you a virgin?” He seemed surprised, rather than judgmental (which only _marginally_ helped).

Raphael turned and buried his face in a pillow, absolutely mortified. “I never really had a need to—I just never really wanted—,” he was still floundering, but thankfully Simon stopped him, bringing a calloused hand up to carefully tilt Raphael’s head away from the pillow.

“Do you trust me?”

 _Yes, no, maybe, I don’t know_. Raphael licked his lips and nodded. Simon smiled brightly (so brightly, it was like the sun had come up). Clothes were removed and then finally Simon was kissing him again, which he could do, he was fine with this. For a good few minutes, he was thoroughly distracted and then _oh, okay, this is why people have sex_ because maybe it was okay that Raphael was never going to heaven because this was as close as he needed to get with Simon carefully taking him apart and putting him back together (feeling new and loved and _happy_ ) and _oh, why had he never felt the need to do this before, he must’ve been crazy._

Afterwards, he found the book Lily gave him and read the parts about sex that he’d skipped before (it still flustered him, but it was better to know, right?). He was happy to find that the night before (if he could blush then he would probably do so every time he thought about it) had nothing to do with their bond and everything to do with Simon being himself.

Thankfully, he was well-versed in matters of control, otherwise he might’ve used their bond to force a different outcome than cuddling. That wouldn’t have been right. A mating bond was sacred, using it for his personal gain (cuddles aside) would be an insult to their relationship.

That didn’t stop it from happening again. Raphael never _asked_ (he still had some pride left after all), but he rarely said no when kissing turned into… more than kissing (Lily started joking that his mood had improved because he’d gotten laid and not even his glare could shut her up). Every time it happened, he started trusting Simon more, a thought that was both wonderful and _terrifying_ , because there was still that lingering thought of _what_ _if_ (a thought he obviously should’ve been listening to, because it’d become painfully obvious it was the right).

Perhaps Raphael had finally managed to deceive himself into thinking that what he’d had with Simon was love. Sex was not love, or trust, or any of that, but Raphael had made the mistake of thinking that Simon’s smiles and emotions and body were Raphael’s. He made the mistake of believing he could trust Simon and the saddest part was, he _still did_ to some extent. If Simon needed him, he’d still go, because no matter what, they were still mates and Raphael would probably never be able to live with himself if something happened to him, his light.

Raphael was broken out of his thoughts by a cold, overwhelming fear and panic. It was so strong he almost could’ve passed it off as his own, but it wasn’t his. _Simon._ Simon was in trouble.

No one tried to stop him as he raced out of the hotel and into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one will probably be a little longer. I'll try to update every Tuesday until it's finished in order to make-up for Shadowhunters not being on (cries). I'm warning you, there will be a shit ton of angst next chapter. Like, I'm probably gonna cry just from writing it, so I apologize in advance for ruining everything. Whoops.


	3. Insult to Injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael is done with Simon's selfish behavior. The only option left is to break their bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so it's been forever since I updated this but it isn't abandoned! As long as Saphael is in my heart I will slowly update as my life allows. Some slightly angsty stuff ahead (though it kind of already has been angsty so I guess that's no surprise).

Raphael knew where his mate was by instinct. He didn’t bother to register the city flying by or the familiar apartment building he came to. He jumped to the third floor and flung the door open. He looked around to find Simon crouched behind a couch.

Raphael kneeled down beside him, “Simon?”

The fledgling’s head shot up. A relieved smile formed on his face. He reached a hand out to touch Raphael’s cheek; a feeling of peace washed over him.

“You came.”

“Of course I came. What’s wrong? Why were you panicking?”

Simon was quiet for a long moment, just staring at him. He swallowed thickly. “I needed to see you.”

Raphael backed away from Simon instantly, jaw tight. “What?”

Simon’s confusion was visible. “I—I needed to see you. I just—I can’t—.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He knew his anger must’ve leaked through, considering how Simon flinched. “A mating bond is _sacred_. You can’t just _use_ it however you like to make me do what you want.”

“What? That’s not—.”

“You forced me to come here thinking you were in danger.”

Simon reached out, but Raphael took another step back. “Raphael…”

“I’m breaking it.”

Simon froze. He took a long, trembling breath. “W-what? What do you mean?”

“I’m breaking our bond. I won’t do this anymore. Between the redhead, your betrayal, and your _selfishness_ , this isn’t working.”

Simon gripped his shirt as if his body still remembered what heartbreak felt like. “ _Please_ ,” he didn’t know what else to say.

Raphael spied Magnus approaching them from the hallway. “I’m done letting you sway me. Goodbye, Simon.”

And with that, he left.

As soon as he returned to the hotel, Lily followed after him, attempting to find out what had happened.

“Nothing that’s happening again,” he growled. He went straight to his room, finding the book Lily had given him weeks ago.

“Raph?” She questioned, only to realize what was happening. “Raphael you can’t! As angry as I am at the fledgling, he’s your _mate_. How likely is it that you’ll find someone like him again?”

“Hopefully, not likely. I’m done with his selfishness, Lily. I have a clan to take care of.” He flipped through the pages until he came to the breaking ritual. “Damn, I can only do it halfway. There’s no way I’ll get him to finish it.”

Lily sighed, knowing she wouldn’t be able to change his mind now. “It’s going to hurt, you know.” She tried weakly.

Raphael’s voice dropped to a whisper, “It couldn’t hurt as much as it already does.”

He shooed Lily out of his room, instructing her to let the others know he wasn’t to be disturbed.

He settled down to begin the ritual. It was basically just a mental exercise to detach from the other party. His resolve wavered a bit when he processed what he was really doing, but he thought about Simon’s betrayal and continued on.

Raphael remembered it clear as day. Simon had come back from the wedding equal parts urgent and energized with the shadowhunters in tow.

“We need to talk to Camille,” Simon said. “Please, Raph, it may be the only way to save Clary’s mom! We need to find a book she has or Jocelyn might be stuck forever.” He could feel Simon’s desperation, but this was one thing he would not agree to, no matter what.

“The redhead’s mother isn’t my concern. Camille is a danger to us all. Have you forgotten what she did last time you saw her?” He knew Simon _did_ remember by the jolt of fear he felt. “I can let you sort through her things, but I can’t let you speak to her.”

“Raphael!”

“I said _no_ , Simon. That’s final. You can’t convince me to do everything. I am your _clan leader_ and I’m responsible for the lives of these vampires. Camille is a direct threat to them.”

Simon frowned, not bothering to hide his frustration. “Fine.”

Raphael knew it was not fine.

Not much later, Raphael and some of his clan members smelled shadowhunters and went to investigate. The scene made his blood boil.

There was Simon blatantly disobeying him. Simon was letting out the one person who could ruin everything. It was clear he had made his decision between the clan and the shadowhunters (between Raphael and Clary—a mental correction he tried to ignore). He knew one day Simon would have to choose, but he hadn’t thought it’d be like this. He didn’t think that decision would be so dramatic or so _destructive_.

Between letting Camille loose, busting a wall, and nearly burning a few vampires to death, Raphael knew there would be no going back from this.

“I’m disappointed in you.” It was the best he could do. He wouldn’t say what he really meant, what he needed to say. The shadowhunters didn’t need to hear his pathetic bitterness. Simon himself could likely feel it well enough.

_This is the end. You did this, you chose her over your mate, over me. This was a mistake, an accident. It should’ve never happened— **we** never should’ve happened. I should’ve known better. I should’ve—but I didn’t and now, now all this regret is filling me. All I can see now is my mate hurting the people I swore to protect, releasing the woman I swore to keep away, choosing the people I swore I’d never let take advantage of me— **betraying** me._

Something burning started in his chest and Raphael nearly panicked, wondering if he’d been so lost in thought he’d forgotten to close the curtains, but he calmed quickly. His bed was placed so that wouldn’t happen. The burn continued throughout his body, slowly creeping up to his neck where Simon had marked him. The idea of it being gone… it hurt. It would be as if nothing happened between them. He ignored the hollow feeling that settled in his chest.

A wave of grief, regret, and panic rushed through him and Raphael wondered if Simon could feel him breaking the bond, feel it weaken and lessen as he mentally unraveled the pieces of Simon that had twined themselves around his being. The emotions were so intense that Raphael couldn’t help but let out a quiet sob, a bloody tear streaking down his face. It seemed only fitting that the last emotions they shared were so negative and strong. Raphael bitterly noted it summed up their relationship quite well.

Raphael studiously ignored the part of him, which sounded suspiciously like Simon, that reminded him of the things he would miss: the teasing banter, the sudden waves of affection, the absolute sense of peace and home when they cuddled. He ignored it as it mentioned Simon’s dumb jokes and his sometimes startling intelligence and diplomacy. He ignored the memory of Simon doing adorable things like rubbing their noses together or bringing Raphael a glass of blood when he’d been working late, insisting he come to bed. He rejected the reminder of his gentleness and his big heart and filled his mind with memories of their problems, of their co-dependency, of _Clary_ and the shadowhunters, of their communication issues, of everything he could think of to counteract the memories a part of him still desperately wanted to hold onto.

The burn finally reached the mating mark on above his jugular vein and the burn became _searing_. Raphael choked out a pained sound, coughing up blood. The distant panic doubled and the clan leader began to breathe, _heavily_. The room became blurry and his head fuzzy, but he could swear he could nearly hear his name being called. The voice sounded a lot like Simon’s.

Finally, the pain receded. Raphael collapsed onto his bed.


	4. Intermission: Simon Lewis Decides to Save Himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus and Simon talk. Simon decides to do something for himself for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! So I have a fairly good idea now of where this is going and how it'll end now, so I'll probably finish it before I continue with my World Inverted fic. Anyway, here's Simon trying to get his shit together and Magnus being everyone's dad. There are some f-bombs in this.

The regret and panic had been bad enough before the pain started, but it had to have doubled after. Simon began to hyperventilate in Magnus’ living room.

“Simon?” Magnus tried to reach him, but there was only one thing on his mind.

“Raphael,” Simon whimpered. When the pain increased, Simon shot up, startling the warlock. “He’s in _pain_ , because of _me_.”

_No, no, no, please Raph, don’t._ Simon marched to the door without thinking, whipping it open and racing off into the night, ignoring the calls of a worried warlock.

_You’re hurting yourself because of me, please stop. Just stop, stop, STOP. I’m sorry, for everything, whatever you need me to be sorry for, just don’t do this, please. It hurts, Raphael. It hurts more and more just thinking about it. Please don’t do this. I never got to tell you…_ Tears ran down his face as he sped through the city, not bothering to make sure no one saw him.

Simon didn’t even bother to stop when he reached the Hotel DuMort. He didn’t stop to consider what he was doing as he yanked open the door and attempted to get to Raphael.

A group of clan members immediately descended on him and Simon struggled to get past them.

“You aren’t welcome here!” One hissed at him.

“I need to see him, _please_!”

The vampires refused to listen and instead grabbed him by the arms, leaving him helpless.

“I need to see Raphael!” He struggled wildly, uselessly, “He’s in pain! Why aren’t you _doing anything_?!” The pain intensified and Simon screamed, “Raphael!”

Everything went dark.

Simon woke up in dim lighting. His head was pounding and a spot on his neck throbbed. He reached a hand up to feel out the spot only to whimper in pain. The mating mark was now an open wound, bleeding and aching.

_Like me_ , Simon thought melodramatically. After his vision cleared, he realized he was back at Magnus’ apartment. The smell he’d come to associate with the warlock clear in the air. In fact, it was coming closer. He turned his head to the door right as it began to open.

“Good, you’re up.” It certainly didn’t sound like it was good. Magnus’ expression was neutral but his tone didn’t sound very friendly. “Sit up so I can bandage your neck. It’ll bleed freely for some time.”

Simon sat up, choosing to ignore Magnus’ mood for the moment. “What happened?”

“You barged into the Hotel DuMort screaming about Raphael.” Magnus wrapped the bandage tight around his wound, not batting an eye when he flinched. “The only reason they spared you is because Raphael could’ve been in a lot of trouble if you hadn’t told them he was hurt. Raphael’s second returned you here.” Once he finished, Magnus stared straight into his eyes. “We need to talk, Simon.”

The use of his actual name worried him. “About?”

“This,” Magnus tapped the now covered mark. “I had no idea about you and Raphael.”

Simon held back tears, “There is no me and Raphael anymore.” His voice broke on Raphael’s name. “I fucked up really bad, didn’t I?”

Magnus took a long breath, lips pinched together. “Well, yes. Just a bit.”

“A bit?” Simon laughed humorlessly. “There’s no going back is there?”

Magnus’ eyes softened, “Oh, Marshmallow,” the nickname surprised Simon. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this for Raphael’s sake, but… only his side of the bond is broken. You may still feel some of his emotions. Without both mates, one cannot break the bond completely.” His gaze stiffened, “Not that I’m not upset with you. Raphael, he’s like a son to me. I _don’t_ appreciate you hurting my son.”

“I didn’t mean to—“

“But you did,” Magnus cut him off harshly. “You chose to do what you did, and you need to accept responsibility for that.” He softened again. “You’re young, Simon. At your age, you _should be_ making mistakes, but you should also be _taking responsibility_ for them. Unfortunately, you got involved at a very stressful time. This particular mistake was made worse because of that. It may have never even happened if we weren’t at war.”

“I made a snap decision, Magnus. I knew… I knew it was between saving Jocelyn or staying with the clan. I… I tried not to think about what that would do to us, to what I had with him—but how could I choose them? Jocelyn… she’s like a second mother to me. She was there for me and my sister when my dad died and my mom was… emotionally unavailable. She even helped my mom get better. I—how could I choose the people that just reminded me every day that I can never go back? That I can never…” Simon squeezed his eyes shut and tried to calm down. “Jocelyn may be the only mother I can see now. Even then, she—she’s afraid of me, of what I am.”

“ _Marshmallow_ ,” Magnus wrapped his arms around him.

“I don’t even know if I did the right thing anymore. I was so sure then. I _had_ to save her. Not just for Clary, but for me too.” Simon buried his face in Magnus’ chest. “I’ve been so fucking selfish. Why am I so—so—so _self-destructive_.” Tears finally slipped from his eyes. “I really am a monster. Not because I’m a vampire, just because I’m _me_.”

“You did screw up,” Magnus spoke softly. “But you have eternity to make amends. Don’t forget that. At the end of the day, you’ll need to make things right. I know it isn’t what you want to hear, but you need a clan, Simon. Raphael’s is the best you’ll find in the state—mostly _because_ of Raphael.” He smiled, “You remind me a bit of a grumpy fledgling I once knew. He was stubborn and always believed he was right, but he hurt so much on the inside… He trained every moment he had so he could go back to his family, so he could control himself no matter what. It broke my heart to see it.”

“Was that…?”

“Don’t burden yourself like he did, Simon. He blamed himself for not being strong enough, for not being smart enough. He despised his very being while he worked to get back to his family.”

“You saved him,” Simon guessed.

“No,” Magnus shook his head. “In the end, Raphael saved himself. That’s what you need to do, Simon.”

He was silent for a moment. “But _how_?”

Magnus shook his head, “Only you can decide what that means. For Raphael, it was going back to his family, learning absolute control so he could spend at least a little more time with them. For you… it’s whatever you need it to be. How can Simon Lewis save himself?” Simon opened his mouth to speak, but Magnus held up a hand. “Don’t decide now. Snap decisions don’t seem to go well for you. Think on it. This is for you, not me, not Clary, not Raphael. Whether they’re involved in what you need is up to you, but it needs to be _for_ you. What do _you_ want? You’ve been trying to be the loyal best friend for too long, Simon. Take care of yourself for once.”

Magnus stood, ready to leave. “And if you hurt my Raphael one more time I won’t be giving you a pep talk. Just keep that in mind.”

Simon laughed weakly. “That’s the last thing I want to do. I… I’d rather live without him than hurt him anymore than I already have. That seems to be the way things will be going.”

“Hope is a powerful thing.” With that, Magnus left him to his own devices.

Simon lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “What do I need?”

It was a good question. Absolutely nothing came to mind. It was filled with helping other people. It was ironic that he ended up being selfish for others, specifically Clary. Was he even still in love with her? When he thought of love… it only hurt. Pining after Clary never hurt. It just was.

“That answers that.” He rolled onto his side. “Maybe I should start with what I want?”

He wanted to digest coffee again. He wanted to _go home_. He wanted to be best friends with Clary again, not just her convenient ally. He wanted to hug his mom and sister at least one last time. He wanted to fix what he’d broken. He wanted to be part of the family Raphael tried to give him. He wanted _Raphael_. He wanted to earn that trust back, that… love? Had Raphael loved him? Did it not get that far? They’d come so far in the time they’d known each other…

If Simon could do it over, he would take it slower. They were nearly co-dependent at one point. Raphael was all he really had and Simon was, he hoped, the balm after a long day, the one person (or second. He’d witnessed Lily and Raphael palling around.) that he could be vulnerable with.

He’d be cheesy. He’d insist on dates and moving along at a reasonable pace instead of jumping from one milestone to another. They’d hold hands more and he’d never deny any cuddling. He’d just be… better. He’d love Raphael the way he deserved to be loved, the way Raphael loves—with his whole being. He’d put his heart in Simon’s hands and Simon took it for granted.

_Is that it? Saving myself by getting Raphael’s forgiveness? No, not just his forgiveness. I need the clan’s forgiveness. I didn’t just betray Raphael. I betrayed the people that had begun to treat me like family._

He thought of Stan and their card games (Simon always accused him of cheating because he always had a winning hand). He thought of Lily and their mutual love of books. He thought of Elliot and how he was his guinea pig when he tried to make blood-based food. His heart ached knowing he hurt them too.

_How can I fix this?_ He pondered this for a moment before he shot up, an idea coming to him.

“Camille.”

He jumped off the bed and ran out the door, skidding to a stop in the living room. Magnus looked up, eyebrow raised.

“I know what I need to do. I need to find Camille.”

Magnus was silent for a long time. “Simon, I—“

“I know. You don’t have to help. I won’t force you to do that. Besides, this is _my_ responsibility.”

Magnus smiled gratefully. “Don’t forget you’re not alone. You can still get others to help. No man is an island and all that. I’ll help you where I can; it’s just…”

“I get it.” Simon smirked, “I think it’s about time Clary acted like the best friend she’s supposed to be.”

“She’s focused on finding Jace. You may have some issues with that one,” he pointed out.

“I’ve got a plan. For once, I know exactly what to do.”

Simon glanced out the windows, newly tinted (Simon appreciated Magnus’ effort). The sky was just beginning to darken, enough that Simon could get to the institute safely.

“I’ll let you know how it goes.”

He barely caught the _be safe_ as he rushed out the door.

_I’ll fix this Raphael. I swear it._

Simon stopped running once he reached the institute. He looked up at the towering once-church, grateful it wouldn’t keep him out. Well, unless they installed some Jewish symbols recently.

Simon walked up to the doors, making sure he seemed as harmless as possible. It wouldn’t do him any good to get attacked by shadowhunters. As he figured, an alarm sounded to indicate his presence. Thankfully, it was exactly who he’d hoped would burst through the doors.

Alec and Isabelle stood ready to fight, only to relax when they recognized him.

“Simon?” Isabelle questioned. “Aren’t you staying with Magnus now?”

Alec frowned. “Yeah, he is.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “I’m here to see Clary.”

The siblings shared a glance.

Isabelle looked back, “I don’t know that she’ll be able to see you.”

This was his chance. His trump card.

“If I can see Clary and have her help me, I’ll help look for Jace. If you sense him, I can get there faster than any of you and try to stall whoever is with him.”

Alec froze as soon as Jace’s name came up. He searched Simon’s face, as if to test his honesty.

“What do you need her help with?” He asked cautiously.

Perfect. “Camille. I need to get her back. She’s a mutual threat. She helps me and you get a bonus—Camille gone and Jace back.” 

The siblings shared another look. Simon caught a minute nod between them.

“We’ll have to bring Clary out here. Downworlders still aren’t allowed in.”

“That works better anyway. I doubt Alderdick would appreciate her making deals with downworlders.”

Isabelle left to get Clary while Alec stayed with him.

“Don’t get Magnus involved,” he suddenly threatened.

Simon nodded, “I wasn’t planning to. I know it would be hard for him. He said he’d help where he could but I’ll do my best to keep him out of it.”

Alec relaxed. The silence between them became less suffocating.

“Simon?” Clary’s voice caught his attention before her scent. “Simon, what are you doing here?”

“I need your help,” he got straight to the point.

“I’m sorry, Simon, but—“

“No,” he interrupted her. He didn’t blink when her eyes widened in surprise. “I need your help. I shouldn’t have to offer favors to get my _best friend_ ’s help, but I need help with Camille and you need help with Jace. Help me take Camille down and I’ll help find Jace.”

Clary nodded, “Okay.” She took a deep breath, “Where should we start?” The determination on her face gave Simon some hope, both for his mission and their friendship.

“Backwards,” Simon declared. “Camille’s apartment. Maybe we can find something useful there.”

Izzy spoke up, “Do you need backup?”

Clary looked like she was about to respond, but Simon replied, “No. This is my fight. I only want Clary’s help finding her. After that, she’s mine to deal with.”

His fists tightened, turning even whiter than their usual undead pale. Clary approached and gently rested her hands over his. He calmed slightly, until Clary stilled suddenly.

“Simon?” She reached towards him, towards—“What’s that on your neck?”

Simon pulled back in a flash, hand covering the mating mark protectively. “It’s—it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

He nearly missed the concerned look Clary shot him and the surprise on Alec and Izzy’s faces. He could only hope they wouldn’t tell her.

“Let’s just get going.”

“Okay,” Clary thankfully decided to table his weirdness for later.

_That’ll be a fun conversation. “Oh yeah, I forgot to mention I’ve been shacking up with my clan leader and we were mates until I fucked it up by helping you. I might also be a little in love with him but it doesn’t matter now because he hates my guts.”_

He resolved to put that off for as long as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't quite decided yet but we'll probably be back to Raphael next chapter. That, or we'll continue with Simon. I think I'd prefer to switch off but we'll have to see if my muse agrees. See you next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> I'll end happy here so I can destroy all your dreams at the beginning of the next chapter.


End file.
